


No One Ever Said that Loving was Easy

by YaminoTenshi202



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: "Not since the accident", Alternate Universe - Future, Angst and Feels, Caretaking, M/M, Medical Procedures, Nurses & Nursing, Respite Care, Using Yūri and Viktor, palliative care
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: "Skating was his life..." Yūri hung his head down, biting his lip as he struggled to find the words. The nurse sat beside him, quiet and waiting. "But I think we've been okay.""Are you happy, Mr. Katsuki?"Yūri lifted his head and let a small smile be born on his lips. "I am. In spite of everything - of teaching my husband how to do basic things, to understand that he can't do some things, and to learn how to care for him... I think I love Viktor even more than when he could walk on his own."No one had ever said that loving was easy, but Yūri Katsuki had always been sincere.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am a surgical nurse, and much of this is influenced by my own education and experience. If anyone has questions not explained in story, let me know and I can cover it in notes.

Yūri had held his breath for hours, it seemed like. He had been looked after, his hand stitched and his cheek dressed in gauze and porous tape. They were finding someone to fix his glassed, Yuri had told him, while the younger man – _boy_ , really – talked about inane things for a while. He mentioned something about the weather; snow was now his enemy. There was a flock of birds by the window. Yūri stared back at their uncomprehending eyes while Yuri spoke.

Everything had been perfect just a few hours ago. It felt like an eternity, but it was only one o’clock in the morning. They had come to the emergency room at ten-thirty. Yūri got the call that their car was towed away at midnight. Yuri had come rushing in to see him at midnight, yelling and crying out in angry, rapid Russian that Yūri should not have been let alone to cry, his face in his palms and ruining the dressing on his cheek. It was also ruining the splint on his fingers, the pressure with which he was holding his head digging the splint into his palm, the foam and metal traveling away from its intended spot.

“My chest hurts…” he muttered out in English.

Yuri’s hand reached for his own, his beautiful, thin and familiar fingers intertwining themselves with Yūri’s intact ones. His heart felt as cracked as his ribs; a miracle! – they had made sure to tell him that in English; it was a miracle that he had not broken them and that the airbag had saved him the torture of broken ribs, which couldn’t be fixed in place.

But he’d rather be the one in surgery now.

Viktor had gone in for surgery at eleven.

* * *

 

Dr. Avokine stared down at the legs that he was doing his best to save, to the tune of some pop song turned down low. A figure skater’s life was their legs, after all, and a doctor’s was in the hands.

“Towel.”

The scrub nurse handed him a sterile cloth, in which he placed another splinter of bone that had been left in the solarius muscle of Viktor Nikiforov’s right leg.

“Johannes, are you doing well?”

Dr. Johannes Avokine sighed. “Yes, Bella. How are you?”

“I have not yet placed pins.”

Johannes looked down at his work. He was ready to place the first part of the skater’s artificial knee.

 _“Knee..? And his leg?” Y_ _ūri Katsuki – the husband of Viktor Nikiforov – had asked in Russian, but Dr. Avokine was hesitant, knowing that Y_ _ūri was not fluent in the language but only knowing the words that pertained to his work._

_The translator went back and forth, explaining the breaks; the right patella shattered and the bones of left lower leg broken completely. No skin had been broken through by the bones, meaning a lesser risk of infection, but they were terrible breaks. The neurologist was also coming to assess the situation. The nurse was present, offering herself to their device and documenting all that occurred._

_“Yes. We need to replace his right knee and place pins in the left leg. He has his antibiotics running, and he is currently stabilized with the firm brace that they have on his torso. What we need, Mr. Katsuki, is a consent stating that you would let us perform the procedures.”_

_“He has no prior medical history-“ Dr. Bella Ciallo asserted, “meaning that there is nothing to warn us from doing both legs at the same time. Many people have similar surgeries by choice.”_

_The translator absorbed it all, speaking to Y_ _ūri. Both physicians saw the Japanese man’s eyes flood with understanding, fear, and then a wave of serenity._

_“W-Would be able to skate a-again?” came slow, clear Russian. At that, Dr. Avokine sighed._

_“We aren’t sure. His legs, we can repair, but his spine – the lower bones that protect the nerves to his legs – was fractured in a few places.” He turned to the translator. “Please.”_

_As the translator continued, Y_ _ūri’s jaw locked, relaxed, and locked again. His head fell into his hands, his splinted fingers moving despite the pain that he was surely in. Dr. Avokine had asked if the young man had had any narcotic pain medications; he had been glad not, as they wouldn’t be able to sign any consents if he had, but he wished now that Y_ _ūri Katsuki wouldn’t have to endure any of this pain._

 _“He… Skating was his life…” Y_ _ūri sighed. “What- um…” He spoke to the translator, who echoed his questions back._

_“We have contacted a neurologist, who will be here shortly.”_

“Blood pressure 168/98. Pulse 65.” The Circulating Nurse called out above the quiet music and hushed conversations. Johannes held still.

Why would his blood pressure shoot up?

“Johannes, can you loosen this belt?”

The orthopedic surgeon turned to the neurologist on call.

“Aric, what is it?”

“… We may have bad news for his husband,” Dr. Aric Steiner, neurologist, said, as he and another nurse went to the other side of the curtain that separated Viktor Nikiforov from his legs, and his legs from one another. Johannes continued to place the new replacement in – “One for mobility that Viktor can use over time as he does his physical therapy. Perhaps not figure skating again, but still skating.” – as he heard the unclicking of a buckle and the sound of a belt being loosened. The room was as still as an undisturbed lake’s surface, nurses and technicians standing by as Viktor Nikiforov was unsecured to the table. Only when the buckle clicked again did the work continue at the same speed as before.

“Su-Lee?” Su-Lee Nyguen – anesthesia – kept her eyes on her patient, keeping the cap on and the oropharyngeal tube in place.

“Yes?”

“How are his vitals now?” Su-Lee pressed the button behind her, letting the nurse read the vitals.

“Blood pressure’s down to 135/86.”

Better…

“How many sponges?”

“12 opened, 12 used sponges.”

“Bring me 8 more.”

“8 new sponges. Total is now 20 sponges for the left leg.”

“Total is 7 sponges for the right knee.”

The circulating nurse continued to count for Johannes. The other circulating nurse counted for Bella.

Aric stood by, taking down vitals and making notes on his notepad. He bent down slightly, making sure that the urinary catheter was draining well. The blood pressure was fluctuating again, and Viktor was starting to sweat. Aric took it upon himself to fix the catheter tubing, letting it flow again, and Viktor began to relax again.

Su-Lee continued her task. 10 of Versed, 50 of Fentanyl, and oxygen going in at 20%, FiO2 at 2 liters. Viktor was stable, but the tape was going to leave his face sticky. The sweats left her with no choice but to apply more tape. She was glad that it didn’t affect his little butterfly bandages on his temple.

They began to close at 1:45 in the morning; they finished counting at 1:52 (everything was accounted for); the anesthesia stop time was 1:56; and Viktor began to roll into the PACU at 2:07.

Viktor was woken up at 2:06. He knew his name, asked where he was in broken sentences, but he wasn’t in pain. He was asking for his Yūri.

Aric Steiner stayed close. He hoped it was all shock.

For everyone’s sake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ironically, my father broke his leg the day after I posted the first chapter... while we were ice skating.

“Viktor Nikiforov?”

It was 2:09 AM. Yūri raised his head and saw Drs. Avokine, Ciallo, and Steiner. He stood quickly, his sight tilting slightly as his blood pressure hurried to catch up with his movements. Yuri stood up beside him, his hand squeezing Yūri’s uninjured fingers. Both were glad that no one was there waiting with them. The doctors approached them, Ciallo smiling at them.

“H-How is he?”

“He’s waking up well,” Dr. Steiner explained. He gestured for the two to sit down. The older skater pulled Yuri down, the teenager ready to bombard the surgeons with questions. “He is oriented to himself, where he is, and he is having no problems breathing.” The surgeons all sit, Dr. Steiner sitting closest to Yūri.

“Then he’ll be all right?”

“Mr. Katsuki,” Dr. Steiner began, and he saw the young skate flinch, the younger growing pale and his expression more hard-set. “I’m afraid that we won’t know how all right he is until he wakes up.”

Yuri Plisetsky translated, and the Japanese man looked like he was going to cry. It was in moments like these that Dr. Steiner always reconsidered his line of work; he had seen many an athlete lose everything; their career, their lover, their family, and even their life… medically unpreventable or by choice.

“His legs will heal; Drs. Ciallo and Avokine are both confident that he can bear full weight on his legs. He may skate again someday, but he may only coach, as he had been doing for you a year ago.”

He saw Bella and Johannes speak, their mouths moving; he heard their words, reassuring Mr. Katsuki of everything that they performed and their certainty of his legs being able to support his weight and grow strong again. Yuri Plitsetsky was translating, but Yūri Katsuki was still star struck by what the neurologist had said.

“What do you mean… may skate? Is there… a chance that he won’t?”

Dr. Steiner sighed heavily.

“There is inflammation around his spinal cord, close to the lower back. These vertebrae were fractured upon impact. There is a possibility that the spinal cord was injured, but we can’t know the extent for another week or two. We are not going to move him anymore than safe and necessary for this reason… Viktor Nikiforov may experience paralysis from the waist down, from complete immobility in his legs to limitation in his movements. I’m sorry.”

Yuri Plisetsky’s eyes were on fire, fury and fear dancing in those green eyes that had captured his fans, included Dr. Steiner’s own daughter. There was enough power in them that he feared that the world would collapse in upon itself, practically bend itself to the boy’s will. Yūri Katsuki blinked and turned to Yuri.

“What?”

The boy looked to his elder friend, Viktor’s husband, and stared back for a moment. Yūri urged him to translate all that Dr. Steiner had said. The other physicians were looking at the boy, strength in their eyes that they had done their best, though Bella always had sadness in her own eyes.

The words were tense, tightly formed from the young Russian’s mouth and throat. There was a bit of anger, a bit of fear… and sadness.

All were present when Yūri Katsuki’s tears began to flow from his eyes, over the dressed wounds on his cheeks, soaking the gauze where the transparent dressing began to curl away from his skin. He pulled away from Yuri, the boy trying to calm him down in frantic, fierce English. Bella stepped forward, helping him to sit down, but Yūri Katsuki pulled away from her, placing his head in his hands.

* * *

When Viktor woke up in the post-anesthesia care unit, taking a minute-long nap after some pain medication, he felt the urge to go to the bathroom. No… that wasn’t true.

He felt like he was urinating in the bed.

The first emotion was embarrassment. The second was confusion, because this was not the hotel room and the car was sliding after the collision, but everything here was smooth. The third was embarrassment again, because he remembered that they were in the hospital after the accident.

“W…”

“Mr. Nikiforov?”

“Yūri?”

The fourth emotion that he felt was annoyance, because his Yūri wasn’t there and the blood pressure cuff on his arm was inflating for what seemed like the seventh time in a row. He looked to the person, the nurse, adjusting the blood pressure cuff and sliding something across his forehead.

“Where’s Yūri?”

“Your friends and family are speaking with the doctors, Mr. Nikiforov. You’ll meet with them on the way to your room. Does your pain feel better?” The nurse was kind, but she didn’t have Yūri. She wasn’t making the world make sense.

“Yeah…”

“Can you rate it for me?”

“A…” Viktor thought for a moment. His head still felt fuzzy, and his legs were feeling numb. Anesthesia did that; he remembered the feeling when he had to have his knee operation when he was twenty-three. “A four.”

“Okay. We’ve been waking you up well, even if you don’t remember, and your vitals have been good, even off of the oxygen. We’ll be here for another five minutes and we’ll start heading back to your room.”

“Sure… Um, what’s your name?”

“My name is Oksana.” She smiled. “Your nurse will be Dina on the Surgical Unit.”

“Thank you.”

He blinked a few times, looking around the unit. There were the offices, the door to the more sterile areas… well, more sterile than the recovery room. He swallowed dryly, looking to Oksana and watching her gauze hat flutter slightly with the air conditioning. He tried to focus on anything but the feeling that Yūri wasn’t with him, that he could be hurt; even if he was in the waiting room, he could have lacerations or stitches or bruises or things that could have been missed. He breathed slowly, trying to calm himself. He wouldn’t get out of the recovery room if he was having a racing heart rate.

He still couldn’t feel his legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is my facility policy. You are in recovery for thirty minutes unless you get narcotic pain medication. Then your thirty minutes start over. Along with the checking of vitals, you are rated on the Aldrete Scoring System:  
> your level of alertness  
> your blood pressure  
> your oxygen level  
> your ability to move your limbs  
> your easiness in breathing  
> * Originally, the score was a 9 out of 10 to leave Recovery. We use 8, with at least 1 in every category.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from PACU; Starting Recovery on the floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't get many patients back from surgery on both legs, simultaneously, but when I do, I make sure that every one stays "doped" on their pain meds.

Yūri felt his heart flutter every time a cart rolled by the waiting area. It could be Viktor’s next, and what would he do then? Would his heart stop upon seeing the catheter bag that the neurologist had talked about? Would he stumble as he saw the tightly wrapped dressings of his legs, one to be replaced with a hard cast?

Would he be the one to tell Viktor that he would never be able to walk as freely as he did before, let alone try to skate again? He knew it wouldn’t be him, but he wished it was. Yūri wanted to be the one to hurt Viktor, not these strangers that wouldn’t help him once he was out of the hospital.

“Nikiforov-Katsuki.”

Yūri started at that, squeezing Yuri’s hand more tightly. The teenager didn’t protest, only squeezing back in response. They stood up, Yūri pulling the younger slightly as they hurried to Viktor. They were silent as they came to the nurse, the woman smiling at them.

“Yūri?”

He didn’t want to look, but he found himself obeying the gentle plea of his husband. Yūri looked down and found the same beautiful eyes as before this fateful night, this night that made him fear…

“Oh, Viktor.”

His hands searched for one of Viktor’s, and he kissed those fingertips – They’re wiggling and grabbing his own! – that reached for his.

“Goddamn you, Viktor,” Yuri mumbled, glaring down at his senior. “You made us worry.”

“We’ll head back to the room where he’ll be staying.” The nurse – her badge said Oksana – gestured down the hallway towards one sign labelled “Surgical”. “His nurse will be Dima. Dima is a very good nurse, has been working here for eight years now.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” Yūri stated in Russian, gripping tightly once more before letting go so that they could proceed.

“Yūri, are you hungry?” The Japanese skater looked to Yuri, who was holding out a candy bar from the vending machine.

“N-No , I’m not-“

“You haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday. You said your stomach was upset so you didn’t eat the dinner from my grandpa’s house.” Yuri’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t lie to me, bastard.”

Yūri sighed. He felt his stomach protest him, agreeing with Yuri that he needed to eat something.

“Go eat, Yūri.” The voice was hoarse, but Viktor’s suggestion (commands didn’t always sit well with Yūri) was strong. Yūri hesitated before assuring them both, his friend and husband, that he would eat the candy bar once in the room. Yuri pressed it into his hand, and Yūri found himself grabbing the snack and stuffing it into his pocket.

Yuri was mildly satisfied. He’d be happier if they would be able to go home… if they would be able to skate together again.

* * *

The nurses gave report to one another while Viktor watched and absorbed it all. He liked Oksana, truly, but she had told his Yūri to stay in the visitor’s room to wait until either nurse came to get him and Yuri Plisetsky. He knew it was most likely to have the nurses uninterrupted, which with Yuri that may be more likely, but he wanted his Yūri with him, and he had found himself staring at his husband and focusing only on him. The sore throat didn’t matter anymore, and his arm that was surely bruised from the blood pressure cuff didn’t matter anymore.

When Dima, his new nurse, began to assess him and explained what the process was – “I will take your vital signs again in 30 minutes and every hour for four hours after that to make sure that you are recovering from the anesthesia.” – Viktor nodded and asked for his husband.

“I will get him. I will finish with a few questions, yes? Can you move your toes at all?”

Viktor tried, and he found that he still could not.

“Excuse me, Dima,” he heard Oksana’s voice from the hallway. Viktor turned his head towards the doorway, and he saw his Yūri and Yuri coming in. Dima stood from where she was feeling his pedal pulses, releasing the high arch of his foot from her grasp. She excused herself and stated that she had a few more things to assess before she would let him rest and let them visit for a while until the next set of vital signs.

Viktor couldn’t stop staring, and he held onto Yūri’s hand so tightly. The scent of something sweet hung on Yūri’s lips, and Viktor was so glad that his love had eaten the candy. In the midst of it all, Viktor could not forget the initial sight of Yūri’s splinted fingers and dressed wounds on his face. Yūri was hurt, and now Viktor could not even stand to properly embrace him, comfort him, and assure him that everything would be all right.

“It will be okay,” Viktor whispered, raising Yūri’s hand and fingers, the splinted ones, to his lips and kissing the metal and foam. Yūri looked like he wanted to cry at that, but Viktor only suspected that it was his anxiety augmented by the situation.

Dima returned to the room, saying that “Oksana may even visit tomorrow if she can”, and began to finish her assessment. His pulses were good, and he felt some tingling in his feet now. The catheter was still bothering him, and Viktor held himself back from asking how long it would be there. When Lilia hurt her hip, she had had one in for several days, unable to move without the pain bringing her back from her progress, as surgery had been very difficult on her, and without her bladder relaxing enough to release its load due to the anesthesia. Perhaps this was the case.

“ _Ah, Miss Dima_?”

“ _Yes, Mr. Nikiforov_?”

“ _Will the doctor come to explain how the surgery went and what my recovery will be like?_ ” Russian felt like soothing candy floss in his mouth, a welcome and long-loved delicacy.

Her face seemed to hide something behind those welcoming eyes, but Dima nodded and the mirage faded.

“ _They will come again, possibly tomorrow morning, to let you rest and to wake up from the anesthesia a bit more. The doctors will be able to answer more of your questions and in greater detail than I could. I will let them know of your concerns, yes?_ ”

“ _Yes, thank you._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nurses cannot diagnose. Even legally, if I said that someone had the flu, with the evidence of an influenza infection and a doctor's affirmation, I would be acting out of my scope of practice and held legally liable for any ensuing damage or harm to person. This is for the doctor to handle; hence, why Oksana called Dima to the hallway to explain the situation. This situation is always weird to handle from a nursing perspective, as I don't want to lie (even by omission) but I never have all of the information on all results, options, or treatments.  
> **I'm always the one with the hugs and the quiet support.
> 
> *Even with my father being recently in the hospital, I have not been to his appointments and I was not there for the information on his surgical prognosis. As a family member, not knowing everything is difficult. As a surgical nurse, it can be frustrating, so not having any background must be even more so.
> 
> *Urinary catheters are placed on the criteria of;  
> GYN/GU tract surgery  
> Acute urinary retention  
> [Prolonged immobilization]  
> Sacral procedure/injury  
> Accurate intake and output measurements in the critically ill


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much wanted a chapter that started with Dima. Dima is based on my experience (emotionally) when dealing with patients with grave prognosis, so this is definitely a biased perception through Dima. I have also been a nurse for 2 years, so I definitely still have a fresh perception and reaction towards patient interaction. This is also an American-influenced perception, and this is perhaps a way to introduce readers to nursing thoughts.  
> *HIPAA (Health Information Portability and Accountability Act, enacted in 1996) is a United States privacy act basically stating that a person's information is their own property and it is not to be shared at all without express permission (written and witnessed). Legal complications can arise, and all healthcare staff are held to this standards.

Dima sighed, charting the appearance of her new patient and rechecking to be sure that she had charted everything. She had charted dressings, anesthesia times, started orders that the doctor had laid down previously to the patient coming back… She wondered if the ice packs in the room were enough or if a cold therapy machine would have to be started.

She cursed silently, biting her lip. Viktor had a drain where his knee was replaced. She had checked it, made sure that the accordion was bringing suction to the site. It had nothing there so far, so she’d have to check and tell the aid such things. She’d order a cold therapy machine just in case for the knee; it’d help with the swelling.

“I heard that Viktor Nikiforov is on our floor,” she heard another nurse whisper. Dima bit her tongue; even as the news began to spread and everyone learnt that Dima had Viktor Nikiforov as a patient, there was nothing distracting Dima from her choice to stay quiet about the whole affair. She knew some were definitely chattier than she would like, and so she pulled the assistant that had Viktor as well to the side.

“Dima?”

“Helga, I need you to keep all of this very secret.”

“What’s wrong?”

Dima sighed. “Viktor Nikiforov has a very long road to recovery for himself. If you and the aids could keep everything very much about him and not his career, it will help more than if you guys keep asking about skating. His husband is there, too, and he isn’t fluent in Russian yet. If his husband gets overwhelmed, we’ll let them rest. As far as I know, the only one to rest has been Viktor.”

Helga nodded, yawning softly. Dima laughed.

“When will you go to first shift? I thought you were supposed to change over a few weeks ago.”

"I decided to stay until Dmitri was fully trained. He’s done good.”

Dima nodded, looking to the clock. “I’ll go back to the room in about 15 minutes for my next check.”

* * *

 

Viktor hummed, looking to the clock. Wow… They were supposed to be sleeping so that they could go on a date tomorrow. They were supposed to have dropped Yuri off to stay with Otabek – “Don’t worry, I called him, Viktor. I can’t have your injured ass worrying about that.” – and gone back to the hotel…

Yūri sat in the chair next to his bed, idly munching on the candy bar that Yuri had given him. Viktor smiled at that, seeing Yūri eat while all of this was happening; he had been a bit worried that Yūri wouldn’t eat or would overeat. He should ask if they have any food for patients so that they could all have something in their stomachs.

Dima came in, stating that she had to check his vitals again. Yūri moved to the side to give Dima a bit of room to do her tasks.

“Viktor, how is your pain? If you need to rate it from 0 to 10, what would it be?”

“It’s about a two.”

“Do you need anything for pain?”

“No,” Viktor protested, smiling tiredly. “I’m fine.”

Dima smiled at them both, looking to the visitors. “Do you need anything right now? We can get some pillows and blankets should you wish to stay.”

Yūri turned to Yuri, giving a small smile. “Have you called Otabek? He must be worried.”

Yuri didn’t answer, looking down at the floor. “… Can you handle being here alone?”

Yūri laughed at that, causing Viktor to grip at his hand. “I’m with Viktor. How dare you say that I’m alone…”

The tension seemed to lessen, now that Yūri was joking a bit more. Viktor kissed his hand, smiling. Yuri stuck out his tongue, and he excused himself to go make his phone call to Otabek.

“ _Lyubov moya_ , why don’t you sleep? I’m sure that Dima could take care of me and any pain this injury throws my way.” Viktor hummed and turned to Dima. “ _Are my vital signs good_?”

“ _They’re perfect, though your blood pressure is on the lower side. That is one of the side effects of the anesthesia and of you lying down, as you don’t need a lot of blood to the whole of your body right now._ ” Dima smiled at Viktor, adjusting the blood pressure cuff to be off of Viktor’s arm. “ _I’m done for now._ Mr. Yūri, I’ll get some blankets for you and a pillow, too.”

Yūri smiled. “Thank you.”

* * *

One of the nurse assistants walked Yuri out, and Otabek’s car was the one thing that Yuri wanted to see. It was the one thing to take him away from the thought of Viktor and his legs.

Otabek did eventually come; his face was flushed and fierce, looking over Yuri with sharp eyes that searched for every injury.

“I’m okay,” Yuri assured, waving to the assistant and thanking him.

“Have a good night.”

Yuri got into the passenger seat, Otabek closing the door for him. As Otabek got into the driver’s seat, Yuri felt his body become limp. Otabek’s concerned words filled his ears, but Yuri shook his head, letting out a shuddering breath.

“Yuri, what’s wrong? I thought you said that he was okay, out of surgery.”

“Beka… I can’t do anything to help. I could before, but this is never… Yūri is trying so hard, but Viktor, he’s going to be destroyed.”

* * *

 

It was four in the morning when Yūri and Viktor got to sleep. Well, Yūri did. Viktor was awakened several times to be asked about his pain… and by the strange sensation in his legs. He still couldn’t feel them all that well, but the sleeping feeling was keeping him from a peaceful rest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone.  
> As I had announced before, my father broke his leg ice-skating soon after I started this fic. We had gone because I had gotten the family into ice-skating (because of Yuri!!! on Ice, of course), and the event did cause me some emotional trauma. I have not been able to watch the show since without a sense of guilt. Working on other fics, school, and work have helped on this matter, and I still do want to finish this story.
> 
> However, school, family, work transition, and depression have come to ruin my life on and off since then. I have since today (28 Jan 2018) been able to come back and begin to make edits and begin to write again.
> 
> Thank you for your patience.
> 
> *Hey~ what's up? I almost want to wait for Ice Adolescence to come out, because of how long I have waited for this story, but I will persevere. :)
> 
> A fairly short chapter, but this is an interlude.

It was 7:45 when Dima took the last set of vitals, cheering him on for his recovery. His blood pressure had come up, but it was nothing dangerous. She said that his heart rate was a little slow, in the fifties, but that was normal in athletes due to their excellent heart health. When breakfast trays came, Yūri came close to Viktor and kissed his forehead.

"I'm going to go get something to eat, Vitenka." Yūri pressed his lips to his husband's forehead. Viktor nodded, turning to the juice, porridge, eggs, oranges, and toast that had come on his tray. As his Yūri left, Viktor felt his stomach turn. Viktor brought his juice to his mouth, letting the wetness grace his chapped lips. Dima had given him pain medication an hour and a half before, saying that they needed to stay on top of his pain. He had slept for a small time, but he awoke when the sunlight began to creep in through the windows and blinds. It had made his body warm and comfortable, something he appreciated now that his pain was under control.

The juice was delicious, landing in his stomach and giving him a feeling not unlike milk and honey on the tongue. He heard his stomach grumble and realized that the small packet of water crackers that Dima had given him had been a good idea, triggering his appetite for the morning. Viktor found himself devouring all of his food, though enjoying only half the flavor. He washed everything down with a small cup of water, laying back down against his pillow. 

A nurse's aid came to get his tray. They talked for a moment about the day and the aid - Anezka - mentioned that she might not help with a bath today, depending on when the doctor ordered that Viktor could get cleaned up.

" _Well, it might be hard with the leg casts, but I can wash my face at least, surely_ ," he teased, and Anezka laughed.

" _Of course. Let me grab a washcloth._ " Viktor took the newly dampened washcloth gracefully. Its warmth reminded him of his Yūri, which made him wonder how long his husband would be gone. Yūri had gone to get something to eat; surely, he would come back to eat with Viktor, or at least come back sooner rather than later.

" _Anezka_ ,  _have you seen_ Yūri  _anywhere?_ "

"No, I can go see if he's in the hallway," she said, taking the washcloth and the tray from Viktor. She dumped the linen into a soiled linen bag and took the tray out of the room. Viktor sighed.

The loneliness in the room was palpable, and it made him think of when he was much younger. He'd been on so many trips, to so many competitions, and he had only cured his loneliness when he had met his Yūri. The sunlight on his hospital blanket only left him wondering how the park would be today.

'We were supposed to go with Yura and Otabek to the park...'

"Vitya?" Viktor looked to the door and he could not keep the smile from blooming onto his face as Yūri came back into the room, a Styrofoam cup in his hands.

"My Yūri." Yūri smiled and returned to the seat at Viktor's bedside, setting his cup on the table and lying his head on Viktor's lap. A heavy sigh left the younger man, making Viktor pout. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"... Viktor, I thought you were never going to wake up..."

Yūri's shoulders trembled, and Viktor felt goosebumps rise up all over his skin. Yūri's voice was so serious, almost stone. Though it was true that Viktor could remember the pain, he couldn't remember where exactly the pain was coming from before he slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness. With both of his legs in casts, Viktor knew it was a serious experience. Could there really have been the possibility..?

" _Lyubov moya_ , God will have to try much harder than that to take me from you."

They lay there together, letting the morning sunlight wash over them. The scent of the hospital room was chemical, but Viktor could not deny the reality of warmth rolling off of Yūri's body. No, this was real, Yūri's head against Viktor's abdomen. The warmth hadn't yet made it to Viktor's legs, but surely that was the anesthesia still.

"Let's wait for the doctors, Yūri. Let me enjoy the reality that you're alive and with me."

Yūri nodded against Viktor's legs. Viktor laid back, reaching for one of Yūri's hands. His silent request was granted, and both men lay for the doctors to come.


End file.
